


illuminate my blue winter

by absoluteares



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absoluteares/pseuds/absoluteares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aria thinks of Spencer, laughs quietly because she would've had several cups by now. She thinks of Hanna, thinks Winter pales in comparison to the dangerous blue of her eyes. She starts to think of Emily but it drowns in the returning sound of a muffled song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	illuminate my blue winter

Aria sees Winter in layers of blue.

The night’s deepest blues shake hope by its shoulders until it shines a blinding white, early morning ricocheting off a fresh snowfall and onto Aria’s windowsill, waking her, inviting her. Her fingers curl into palm, into fists of sweater and she waits for the clouds to move, for the blue hills to appear in the distance like a dream she has but can’t touch. 

The song in her heart is muffled only by the blue haze of her mind but there’s no time to flesh it out because her mother needs help in the kitchen. Or so she guesses when a grunt of frustration follows the startling clank of falling pots and pans.

“Now is not the time,” Ella seems to be saying to an open, empty cabinet as Aria pads into the kitchen with sleepy eyes and arms crossed to fend off the cold. 

“Good morning?” Aria tries, leaning cautiously against the counter. “I think.”

“Hey honey,” she exhales slowly, glances over her shoulder, immediately looks apologetic at the sight of an exhausted Aria. “Sorry about all the noise, I’m just. I’ve been so busy that I forgot I actually had to prepare the food for the Christmas party I also forgot is today.”

“Mom, I love you--”

“But?”

“ _But_. Have you tried calling Zack?”

“Aria.” 

“Mom.”

“What would I do without you?” Ella places her hands on either side of Aria’s face, smiles wide, presses a quick kiss to her forehead and starts towards the living room. 

“Trash all of your pots and pans, probably.” Aria smiles small, puts away the dislodged dishes and affectionately greets the coffee maker.

Aria thinks of Spencer, laughs quietly because she would’ve had several cups by now. She thinks of Hanna, thinks Winter pales in comparison to the dangerous blue of her eyes. She starts to think of Emily but it drowns in the returning sound of a muffled song.

 

 

It’s hard to know where the sun is anymore. As she climbs on a chair to hang some silver garland across the windows, Aria’s grateful for the overcast skies if only because the blinding white is only mildly blinding now. 

Ella zips in and out of the rooms on the first floor with a box of decorations in hand and a roll of scotch tape between her teeth. She’s been a lot more pleasant now that Zack’s in the kitchen taking care of the food, and well, the wine he brought didn’t hurt either. She manages something that sounds like, “Is it safe to assume the girls will be here?”

Aria hasn’t seen Spencer and Hanna since the end of the summer, which seems like a long time now that she’s thinking about it, but not really when they’re all so busy. The two of them have been in New York the last two years, attending school and living as roommates in something on the cusp of a fantasy, and it’s a lot of things but never boring, or so Aria hears from the daily emails and calls she still gets, still counts on. As for Emily, well, maybe their schools are an hour apart and maybe the one time they met halfway for lunch over a year ago turned into a biweekly thing. 

Maybe her mother has stopped asking if there are any cute boys in her classes and maybe Aria wonders if she would even notice now.

“Aria?”

“Yeah.” Aria comes back down to earth, surprises herself when she doesn’t fall off the chair entirely. “Hanna might have to go to her dad’s house but hopefully not until after.”

“Her dad’s house, huh? Well, if she does show, make sure she’s the first to get her present then.” With her elbow, Ella gestures to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, three presents front and center of the pile underneath it, ribboned and marked specially for Emily, Spencer and Hanna.

Aria beams.

“Oh, and.” Ella lets the tape fall to the floor. “Mike’s bringing a friend.”

“A friend? Or a _friend_?”

“It’s Mike, so he won’t give me too many details about the guy.” Aria nods at that. “But I’ve got a good feeling.”

Aria shakes her head and moves towards the box of decorations just as Ella sets them down on the couch, teases, “Are you sure it’s not that glass of wine you just had?”

“No. Maybe. A little. But mother’s intuition is a very real thing. Speaking of which, if there was someone you wanted to bring...”

Aria’s throat tightens around her voice, holds it prisoner for longer than she would have liked. There’s a knock at the front door. An exhale. “I’ll get it.”

Aria swings the door open and blinks away a sharp chill until Emily steps into the clear light of day, all Summer smiles and flecks of snowflakes in her hair.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Emily smiles broadly, one corner of her mouth rising higher until a dimple settles near it.

Aria can feel herself mirroring it. “Hi.”

Emily drops her eyes for a split second, smile stifling itself. “You said that already.” 

“Oh!” The laugh that follows warms Aria down to her bones. “Sorry, come in.”

Aria doesn't notice that Emily’s carrying presents until she’s inside, out of her coat and bombarded by a hug from Aria’s tipsy mother.

“Am I too early?” Emily asks, tucking away a strand of snow-dotted hair when Ella lets her go. 

“No, no actually we could use some help if you’re up for it.” Emily nods happily, because of course she does. “And I can put those with the others, if you want.” Ella says, smiling between Emily and the presents.

“Who knew Santa would look like you.” It rolls off Aria’s tongue before she really thinks about it, once Ella’s back in the living room, stacking Emily’s presents on top of the others.

Emily’s eyes widen just a smidge, and brighten just as fast, like a flash of light, the way they do when you've said something unexpected and she’s not-so-secretly pleased about it. A playfully suspicious quirk of her brow follows it, though, and that makes Aria laugh enough to forget how she knew all of that in the first place.

Ella returns with a bundle of multicolored Christmas lights, shoves them at Aria and points down the hall. “The staircase and the second floor. Chop chop, ladies.”

When she walks away again, Emily takes the lights and loosely wraps them around Aria’s neck. “Go on, Rudolph. Guide my sleigh.”

Aria snorts, “Unbelievable,” then starts down the hallway with Emily’s hand in hers. 

 

 

“You should probably say adios to your cousins,” is the first thing out of Hanna’s mouth when she arrives shortly after the party’s started, bottle of tequila in her hand and annoyance in her eye.

Aria starts to ask why but then a battle cry rockets through the air outside and it’s followed by the shrieks of small children. 

It’s Spencer. 

It’s Spencer, crouched inside a terrifyingly well-shaped snow trench, having a snowball fight with Aria’s youngest cousins and it looks like death is the only way out of it.

Emily comes up behind Aria, peers over her shoulder to see what they’re looking at, laughs and steps onto the porch. “Spencer!”

“They started it!” 

“They’re little kids, Spence.” Aria closes the door behind them once they’re all out on the porch. “And I don’t think my family would be too happy about bloodshed on Christmas.”

“Well then maybe Junior here shouldn't have pelted me with a block of ice!”

“It’s Tommy! My brother’s Junior!”

Spencer looks over at the girls, disgust on her face, shouts in offense, “Your cousin’s name is _Junior_?”

Aria steps off the porch, boots crunching in the snow as she cautiously moves towards Spencer, like maybe she’s going to negotiate with a criminal, or disarm a bomb. “Mike Jr, actually. My mom and her sister had the same idea about naming their boys after my grandfather.”

Spencer’s eyes follow Aria’s movements, snowball still in hand. “How-- who does that to their child? _Junior_? Junior, Aria! I can’t even condescend this kid because his name does it for him!”

“Spencer Hastings!” An exaggerated voice and sudden laughter visibly puts Spencer on edge. Aria watches her gaze turn to the other side of the yard. “Put down the snowball and come out with your hands up!” 

It’s Emily, kneeling beside Aria’s cousins, rapidly packing snow into their mittened hands. 

Spencer’s jaw drops, the slightest of smirks and then, “Traitor!” 

A war starts, Hanna groans loudly and Aria thinks, okay, yeah, now it feels like Christmas.

 

 

After an hour or so of mingling and catching up, Ashley Marin shows up with a bottle of wine, much to Ella’s elation as she’s then able to abandon Aunt Ruth and another story about her stuffed cat. Hanna hugs her mother, laughs as she makes a quick move to the kitchen with the wine. Emily explains to Ella that her mom would've been here but since her dad’s only home for a week, they’re spending Christmas visiting relatives and will be back to spend New Year’s with Emily.

“Oh Emily, it pains me to think of you at home on Christmas all by yourself. You can spend it with us if you want.” And Aria wonders if her mother had an extra glass of wine while she wasn't looking. 

Emily looks at Aria for a long moment, bites her lip, returns her attention to Ella with a warm smile. “I appreciate it but I think some time to myself isn’t the worst idea.”

“I understand. But if you change your mind, you’re welcome anytime.” Ella says, smiling openly and yeah, she’s definitely intoxicated but she means it. She gives Emily’s arm a small squeeze, walks away, towards the kitchen and into Ashley’s line of sight.

Aria mimics the action, squeezing Emily’s arm and smiling at her before following her mother into the kitchen where an important beverage tasting seems to be happening.

“Aria, come here.” Ella says immediately, holding out the mug she’s been drinking from. “Zack whipped up a vegan eggnog.”

“Really?” Aria’s face lights up as she accepts the mug, brings it to her mouth, takes a long sip and of course it’s amazing.

“Good, right?” Ashley smiles at Aria over the rim of her own mug.

Aria nods, grabs an empty mug, blue with snowflake designs and fills it to the top. 

“He made it for you,” Ella says and they all smile at that.

When Ashley finishes hers off, she sets the mug on the counter, points in the direction of the living room, says on her way out of the kitchen, “Meet you on the dancefloor?”

Ella nods and Aria laughs. But then it’s just the two of them, leaning against opposite counters, the faint sound of chatter and Christmas music and the question Ella clearly wants to ask.

“What?” Aria asks even if she doesn't really want to know.

“You and Emily.”

Aria focuses her attention on the mug in her hands. “What about me and Emily?”

“I haven’t asked because I like to think you’ll tell me things when you’re ready to tell me. But it’s been over a year of--”

“Of what?”

“Well, I obviously don’t know exactly but it’s something, isn't it?”

It bounces around in Aria’s head, like a pinball game, and Aria already hates this simile because she immediately visualizes taking Emily to the arcade. “She’s my friend, mom.” And well, it’s not a lie.

“A friend? Or a _friend_?” 

Aria looks her mother in the eye. “One of my very best friends.”

“I know, but that doesn't really answer my question, does it?”

A beat. “This eggnog is really good. I should ask Zack for the recipe.”

“Oh honey. It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. Can I say one thing, though?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“What you have with your friends… It’s unlike anything I've ever come across. So, whatever this thing with Emily is, or isn't, it’ll be okay. I honestly believe that.”

Aria swallows the lump in her throat. “Mom?” Her mother turns in the entrance, regarding her with a smile. “Thanks.”

 

 

Spencer and Emily wander into the kitchen just as Ella’s leaving it, Hanna only a few paces behind, looking particularly grumpy. 

Aria sips some more, glances at Spencer over the rim of her mug and Spencer rolls her eyes playfully. “Emily and I are convinced that Hanna’s actually The Grinch.”

“Hmm. Well, I guess that’s better than Scrooge.”

Hanna scoffs. “In what world is that better? One has money and the other is an overgrown Chia Pet.”

Emily laughs and that seems to make Hanna less annoyed.

“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Spencer asks, helping herself to Aria’s eggnog.

“At the bottom of a punch bowl.”

Aria sees the nearly empty bottle of tequila clenched between Hanna’s fingers. “You didn’t.”

“Well.”

Then, more seriously, “Han, you did not spike my mom’s Christmas punch.”

“Okay, I didn’t.”

“Hanna.”

“Oh please. Have you ever actually seen your mom when she’s drunk? Sometimes when she comes over to talk to my mom, they’ll wander out onto the patio with their ancient wines and next thing I know, this like, wild laughter is shaking the whole damn house. It’s so funny.”

Emily rocks on her heels a little bit, somehow amused and simultaneously nervous. “The adults aren’t the only ones drinking the punch.”

Hanna groans, spins on her heel and glides towards Aria’s mother. From a distance, Aria can’t tell what Hanna’s saying but the look of horror on her mother’s face that hilariously transforms into one of delight is a pretty solid indicator.

“All better,” Hanna says when she returns to the group. They all start to laugh a second later because Ella uses a marker to write ‘Adults Only’ across the punch bowl.

The music changes and some people start to dance. Hanna rolls her eyes. Aria isn’t sure if it’s because both of their mothers are trying to do the Electric Slide to the beat of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, or something else. 

The line _‘mistletoe hung where you can see’_ really sets her off, apparently.

“It’s a freaking plant.”

And that sets off Spencer. “It’s a tradition!”

“Oh, excuse me. It’s a traditional freaking plant.”

Emily says, more to herself than anything, “I think it’s nice.”

“Me too,” Aria says, smiling into her mug.

Emily smiles back. “My dad told me it was good luck to kiss someone under the mistletoe. I mean, my mom insisted that’s only true if it’s with someone you love, but.”

Hanna snorts. “Was that her version of The Talk?”

“Probably.”

“Why does he think it’s good luck?” Spencer asks, genuine curiosity in her eye.

“He’d say that when enemies came across each other under trees that had mistletoe on them, they’d put down their weapons and call a truce for the rest of the night.”

Aria watches as Hanna’s face twists in subtle conflict, slowly submitting to the soft ache in Emily’s voice. But then Hanna looks up, something above Aria catching her eye, and the corners of Hanna’s mouth start to curve upwards. Spencer catches on and suddenly they’re both laughing.

Emily half-smirks, a curious tilt of the head and a sideways glance at Aria. “Did I miss something?”

Aria follows Hanna’s gaze, eyes landing on the mistletoe hanging right above her and Emily, and Emily must see it now because Aria catches the wringing of hands in her peripheral.

When they finally meet eyes, though, Spencer and Hanna’s laughter dies down fairly quick and Aria can hear music again but it’s not a Christmas song anymore. 

There’s a clearing of throats and, “Oh, come on,” falls playfully from Hanna’s mouth before she steps towards them, grabs Aria’s face with both her hands and kisses her square on the mouth. Emily’s shock and delight makes Hanna laugh, eyes a brighter blue, cheeks a shade pinker, and she kisses her too.

“I just saved you both from more bad luck.” Hanna says as she steps back, shifting her weight next to Spencer, smiling bigger than she has since she arrived.

Good feelings bubble in Aria’s throat, for a million reasons, none of which she can name until Spencer is sort of pouting and both Aria and Emily are laughing, loud and honest. 

It’s certainly making Hanna’s day. “Spencer Hastings, are you _jealous_?”

“No! Well, yes but no!”

“Pick one.”

“So I feel a little left out, sue me.”

“I’ll do you one better.” And Hanna delivers, pressing her lips firmly against Spencer’s, keeps them there long enough to make them all sputter with laughter. When Hanna pulls away, she beams and actually takes a bow, because of course she does. “I know, I know. I’m the gift that keeps on giving.”

“Wow, Han. How weirdly appropriate.” Spencer comments through a grin.

“Appropriate? Please. Don’t insult me.”

As Spencer and Hanna continue with their back-and-forths, Aria turns to face the counter, pours herself another mug of eggnog, and swallows hard when Emily moves to stand beside her. Rightly so, she learns a second later, because Emily’s fingertips brush Aria’s hair away from her cheek long enough to press her lips against it. The heat rises quickly in Aria’s face, and the incoherent scramble of her thoughts leaves her with nothing, leaves her with everything, leaves her feeling like she’s just been pushed out into the bluest of deep ends and Emily’s swum out to keep her afloat. 

She waits for it to pass before chancing a look at a charmingly bold, smiling Emily, and can’t help but smile back. “For luck?” Aria offers, as an out maybe. For her or Emily, she isn’t sure.

Emily’s gaze is steady, soft, unafraid. She nods anyway. “For luck.” 

Aria tries to forget the part about _someone you love_.

 

 

The thing about family gatherings is that you have to interact with, well, family. And as much as Aria loves her family, she also loves the time inbetween holidays that she spends not answering questions regarding what she wants to be. Within that is a question of who she wants to be and even further still remains the question, who is she now? 

She doesn’t know. 

She doesn’t know and the longer she has to dodge the question, the more it starts to make the blue haze of her mind a much darker blue, darker and deeper until it’s suddenly black. Her fingers curl into palm, into fists of sweater and she needs air.

A ribbon of warmth reaches out from the darkness, loops around her wrist and holds on but not too tight. Just enough to ground her and still leave room to fly. Aria’s lashes flicker up and it’s Emily’s face that she sees.

The next few moments seem to blur together as Emily gently guides her away from any onlookers, eyes watching and waiting for Aria to collapse under the weight of things unseen, so often simplified and still somehow used as weapons. She might be on the verge of an anxiety attack so she tries to zone in on her breathing, tries to bite back, and then the cold bites her, and it fills her lungs and oh, she and Emily are outside.

Emily’s hand leaves Aria’s wrist and she takes a small step back, like she means to give Aria space without leaving her side.

Aria chokes on an attempt to breathe deeply, does a better job the second third fourth tenth time. A sudden chill latches onto her spine and even as it fades, it feels just like every other monster chained to this town. Emily notices Aria shivering before Aria does, runs back inside and returns with both of their coats, making sure to drape Aria’s over her shoulders first before putting on her own.

It takes a long moment of standing and shivering and breathing in so deep, but, “I’m okay.” Aria shrugs into her coat, crosses her arms tight across her chest, watches Emily’s shoulders slowly relax. “Think anyone noticed?”

“I don’t think so. Most of them seem pretty out of it, if not totally hammered.”

“Remind me to thank Hanna.” Aria smiles small because Emily does, then looks her up and down a couple times. They’re losing light but Emily’s eyes are still shining with something. “You look like you want to hug me.” 

“That’s because I do.”

And Aria realizes that she wants that, too, simply to be wrapped in Emily’s arms, in Emily’s warmth. But her body won’t allow it just yet, not while her nerves are twisted up in the worst of ways. “Will you save it for later?”

Emily smiles, warm and not even a little bit out of pity, and Aria wishes she could say just how much that matters. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Is there anything I can do for you now, though?”

Aria moves towards the porch swing, uses her sleeve to push the thin layer of snow off its bench, clears a space for both of them and sits. “Distract me.”

“Will talking about nothing work?”

“That’s perfect.”

Emily sits beside Aria, pulls her coat tighter against her body, spends a minute watching her breath rise up like rings of smoke. “When I was studying for finals, or, well, not studying, I think I spent a solid half hour reading up on the meaning of your name.”

Aria rubs her hands together, eyes focused on the friction. “You did?”

“I did. And I wasn’t surprised that it originates in music. Is that weird? Probably.” Emily chuckles quietly. “It’s just that you don’t sing that often, not really. Then I started wondering why that is, especially with a singing voice as beautiful as yours.”

“Are you saying my regular speaking voice isn’t beautiful?”

“No! Of course not, I’m just--”

“Emily.”

Aria peers over at her, and even though Emily’s looking straight ahead Aria can still see the hint of a smile. “You’re messing with me.”

The corners of Aria’s mouth twitch, but her nerves are reluctant so it doesn’t quite make it to a full smile. But she rests one hand on Emily’s bouncing knee, absently smoothing her palm over the bone, which settles both of them. “Was there anything else to that story?”

Emily hesitates. “Not really. It just makes sense to me that you’re the songbird.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause you’ve got a story to tell, and you’ll tell it. Whether you’re singing, or writing, or taking pictures is just a formality.”

Aria smiles at that, feels her shoulders relaxing, and the knot in her stomach starts to untwist itself. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For getting me out of there.”

The porch light flickers on as the sky grows void of blues and whites. “It’s nothing. I didn’t really think about it. I just saw you shutting down and, I don’t know, reacted. Instincts sort of freak me out like that.”

“How come?”

“Because I trust them more than I trust myself.”

“Are those separate things?”

“Feels like it sometimes.”

“So what are your instincts telling you now?” And it surprises Aria, the way it falls from her mouth, like nothing, like everything, like air.

Emily turns her head, finally, and her eyes bore seriously into Aria’s, like maybe she wishes she hadn’t asked her that. And maybe that’s why Aria scoots over to close the already small gap between them, why she presses her lips against Emily’s cheek, against the reappearing dimple near Emily’s growing smile, against Emily’s unexpectant mouth.

 

 

“We have a problem,” Aria says in the safety of the upstairs bathroom, after she drags Hanna in with her.

Aria expects Hanna to be annoyed but she personally witnessed Hanna down three cups of that Christmas punch earlier. “Really? Because I’m feeling pretty damn amazing right about now.”

“That’ll happen when you spike the waterhole.”

“Hakuna Matata, baby,” Hanna says as she moves towards the mirror, pressing her palms into the cold counter and staring at Aria’s reflection.

“Hanna, I need you to be here right now.”

“Okay, jeez.” Hanna turns around, leans against the bathroom counter, absently twists a curl around her finger. “What’s the problem?”

“I… like someone.”

“Shut up! No, wait, why is that a problem?”

“Because.” Aria hears the sentence finish in her head but that’s where it stops.

Hanna looks at her with a critical eye. “Is it that new professor you’re always talking about? Listen, I know I made you guys binge on Glee with me the last time we were all back from school, but I didn’t think you were that impressionable.”

“What--no! Han--”

“Also, maybe try the road not taken sometime? Your last decision was, well, yikes.”

“Hanna.”

“I mean, that’s not to shit on your feelings or anything because I know how much that dumbass meant to you at the time, but--”

Aria feels like she’s going to pull out her own hair. “It’s Emily!” A pressure lifts and she breathes it back in a second later, sighs, sits on the edge of the bathtub and looks up at Hanna. “I like Emily.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a lot, I know, but--”

“Spencer owes me fifty bucks!” The expression Aria thought was shock was actually...not. At all.

“Excuse me?”

“Just in time for last minute Christmas sales, too.”

“You _knew_?”

“Well. Yeah? It wasn’t obvious, though, if that’s why you’re freaking out.”

Aria’s tongue slides across her own bottom lip, like she isn’t sure if kissing Emily was a thing she did or not. “Well if it wasn’t before, it sure is now.”

“Aria, seriously. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I kissed her, Han.” Aria says it on the tail-end of a heart palpitation.

“You did _what_? When? How’d she react?” It’s exactly the spitfire she would expect from Hanna.

“Today. Like, half an hour ago. And she...” Aria pauses, and starts to smile, which makes Hanna’s eyes brighten so much they could probably light up all of Rosewood. “But then my brother and his friend came out looking for me, so we went inside, got split up during Christmas carols and then I hunted you down and dragged you in here because _we have a problem_.”

Hanna chews on her lip, like she’s considering the facts. “I don’t know if I want to congratulate you or punch you in the head.”

“I’d prefer not to be punched, thanks.”

“I should anyway because clearly your mental clogs are slacking.”

“Cogs. It’s cogs.”

“Good because clogs are so not in this season or any season, ever.”

“Thanks for that important tip.”

Hanna stares down at Aria for a moment, sighs, then moves to sit beside her on the edge of the bathtub. “Why exactly are you so freaked? Because she’s one of your best friends?”

“I thought that was it, and I guess it is a little bit but not really? I think it’s more that it’s the total opposite of my previous experiences.”

“Because she’s a girl?”

“No, that’s not the problem.” Aria says like she’s just realizing it herself. “I don’t think that was ever a problem, actually.”

Hanna offers a soft smile, tries again. “So what is it, then?”

“I’m so used to just jumping into things, you know? I fall really fast and fight for it until it all goes up in flames.” Aria shakes her head, allows herself a glance at Hanna. “But with Emily… it’s been a lot of time spent together and doing a horrible job of denying it was something more than I was calling it.”

“And what would you call it now?”

Aria hears her mother’s voice in the back of her head, laughs quietly. “I don’t know exactly but it’s definitely something.”

Hanna throws her arm around Aria’s shoulders and pulls her in close. “Look, do you wanna know what I think?”

“Yes. Please.” 

“I think she’s definitely a step up for you.”

“Wow.”

Hanna grins and Aria hates that she wants to grin right back. “A huge step. Like, one giant leap for womankind.”

“It’s mankind.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“Oh my god.”

“The best part is that Emily’s someone I already trust so I won’t need to do a background check.”

“You--”

“Whatever, okay. I like to know who’s taking my best friends home. Not that I really need a reason.”

Aria thinks nobody’s taking anybody home, but then that’s exactly what she’s thinking and-- “Wait, go back to the part where Spencer owes you fifty bucks.”

Hanna sighs. “Emily sent me and Spencer a vague email awhile back and-- hey, no! I can’t tell you about it, okay, but there was a bet and Spencer lost and... oh my god. _I won_.”

There’s a knock on the door, horror on Aria’s face as they rise to their feet and Hanna yells, “We’re busy!”

The door opens slowly, Spencer’s head peeks in. “We?”

“Really? Do you walk in on every potential quickie?” Hanna reaches out, drags Spencer in the rest of the way by her wrist and kicks the door shut. 

Spencer’s brows knit together as she looks between the two of them. “No, but if that’s where this is going, you should probably get a move on. There’s a line out there.”

“I can’t believe this is seriously happening,” Aria says and the humor in Spencer’s face distorts a little.

“Did I actually walk in on something? I know we’ve all had our fill of Christmas punch, but--”

Aria smacks Spencer’s upper arm, sits back down on the edge of the bathtub, runs a hand through her hair.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“You owe Hanna fifty bucks!”

“Wh--oh. _Oh_.” And to Aria’s dismay, Spencer sputters, cracks up, loses it totally.

Hanna narrows her eyes, leans against the bathroom counter again, waves her hand around. “Why are you laughing? How am I supposed to gloat if you’re fucking laughing?”

“Sorry Han, it’s just. I can’t believe it took her so long.”

“What does that even mean? Can one of you idiots please explain the terms of this bet to me?”

Another knock on the door and Aria contemplates the possibility that this entire day might be a hallucination. When her mother’s voice is on the other side, she thinks, well, now it’s a nightmare.

“Girls? Come on out of there, I’m going to make a toast soon!”

“We’ll be down in a second!” Aria answers, getting up and moving to the mirror. Hanna joins her and they both start to readjust hair and sweaters, Spencer still laughing behind them.

“How did she even know we were in here?” Hanna asks, turning to pull a fraying thread from Aria’s sweater. 

Spencer’s laughter slows a bit. “Mothers are nearly omnipotent.”

Hanna blinks at Spencer’s reflection. “God, you’re drunk and I still can’t escape your vocab.”

Aria spins around, then, a look of determination on her face. “We’re not leaving this bathroom until one of you tells me about the bet.”

Spencer looks back at Hanna’s reflection, waits for Hanna to nod, then, “We bet on which one of you would crack first.”

 

 

When they finally go downstairs, the party seems to have escalated, or so Aria decides based on the fact that Ella and Ashley are basically grinding in the middle of a dance mob consisting entirely of old people. She doesn’t know if it’s the sight of her mother dancing like that or all her relatives surrounding her that makes her stomach turn, or maybe it’s none of that because Emily is in the corner chatting up Alexis, currently the only cousin of Aria’s in this room that’s actually their age.

Spencer drags Aria through the room, plucks their coats from where they hang and suddenly they’re out on the porch. It’s nothing like the last time Aria was out here and it makes her want to scream.

Apparently it’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to Spencer.

Aria shoves her, but there’s hardly any force behind it. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” 

They stand at the edge of the porch, looking out at the street, and Aria thinks it’s nice that the lamp posts are decked with wreaths and silver bells. 

“They’re not flirting,” Spencer says after a moment, when the noise inside starts to seem far away, the coldness awake and biting at their noses. 

Aria closes her eyes on the darkness, sees the blue haze of her mind, brings her hands up to her mouth and blows into them. “You don’t know that.”

“If Hanna wasn’t busy trying to pry your mothers off each other, she’d be out here right now to tell you how ridiculous you’re being.”

“Ridiculous probably isn’t the word she’d use.”

Spencer laughs. “No, probably not.”

“If I tell Emily,” Aria muses out loud, “if she feels the same and if it becomes something else…”

“If you’re jealous and you want to tell your best friend but you can’t because you’re dating her.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, Aria. That’s why you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“What do you mean?”

The front door opens and shuts, the light crunching of snow bringing Hanna beside Aria. 

“It wouldn’t be just you and Em,” Spencer explains, simply and so matter-of-fact. “It never has and it never will be just the two of you, or just one, or just three.”

“No matter the package,” Hanna chimes in, her voice low and serious as she reaches for Aria’s hand. “It’ll always be the four of us.”

“All or nothing,” Aria says quietly. And it’s not like it’s news but to hear it so outright, so clearly defined and not out of the mouth of another authority figure just looking to break them down-- it makes her shiver, fills her lungs, warms her blood and sets her free.

 

 

They slip back inside just in time for Ella’s toast.

“First of all,” she starts, standing on the couch and beaming so bright that she might as well be the star on top of the tree. “I just want to say that I’m glad you’re all here tonight.” 

It earns a resounding cheer, and that sound replays itself on a loop as she goes on, thanking individual family members and even the Christmas punch. Aria watches as Spencer and Hanna move through the crowd, her smile growing because they’ve gone to be with Emily. Aria’s still watching as her mother asks everyone to raise their glass.

“I want to make a toast to family,” And Aria lifts her eyes at that, smiling back at her joyfully tearful and very drunk mother, the weight of it starting to hit her when Mike smiles too. 

“To the family I was born into, to families forged over time…” The girls are grinning at Aria from across the room now, and Aria tells herself she won’t cry but then her mother gives her a pointed look, then Emily, then her again and, oh no, “To families still to come.”

She wants to say everything comes to a full stop, that the rest was history because nothing else matters more than this moment. But the party continues and the world keeps spinning, and her mind is blue and swimming and none of it seems real. She’s blinking away the heat in her eyes, then, just to be sure that Emily hasn’t moved at all and yes, she’s still standing there, eyes shining at Aria from across the room like a beacon of light.

Aria takes the first step but Emily meets her halfway, matching smiles on their faces.

“Is it too soon for ‘later’?”

“Promises to keep, huh.” Aria automatically reaches out, fingers sliding down the length of Emily’s forearms, falling into Emily’s grip so they’re squeezing at each other’s hands.

Emily laughs over the music. “And miles to go before I sleep.”

They’re simultaneously bumped into by other people, which pushes them into each other’s arms, only it’s not just clumsy, drunk relatives crashing around. It’s Spencer and Hanna, eyes brimming with laughter as they wave and walk by, holding hands as they push through the crowd. But Emily doesn’t let go, arms tightening around Aria, mouth pressed against her hair, and Aria hugs her back, smile pressed into the crook of Emily’s neck like that’s exactly where it belongs.

 

 

The relatives that are too drunk to drive either call cabs or crash in various rooms on the first floor. Aria helps clean up a little before Ella waves her hand around, saying “It can wait ‘til morning.” 

So Aria does what she’s been waiting to do since she said goodnight to everyone, to her family, to her friends. She steps over a heap of bodies, grabs the present Emily brought her and retreats to her room.

She rests the present on her bed, looks it over once then sits beside it. Aria weighs her options, weighs the entirety of the day in her mind, figures reading the small card attached to the top of it should be less traumatic.

The card reads:

> _With love, from all of us. - E._
> 
> _Mostly Emily, though. Merry Christmas. - S._
> 
> _What Spencer said. Love you. - H._

Aria smiles, small at first, the pads of her fingers tracing over the letters, but then she thinks she might cry as she tears away the wrapping paper because underneath it is a typewriter.

She does cry a second later, when she sees it: A blank page that juts out over the back of the typewriter and reads _sing on, songbird_.

It clicks then, that this was Emily’s idea, and the blue haze of her mind dissipates long enough to hear a piece of the song in her heart, all crashing cymbals and emotive riptides with a heavy bias for the E chord.

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

The card slips from Aria’s grasp and she leans down to pick it up, “What?” She stays there for a moment, eyes focused on her own hands, wonders who else can feel Emily’s hold on them. Looks up to see her brother standing in her doorway with his knowing smirk.

Mike laughs. “Emily. You’re into her, right?”

Aria sighs, stands up again, decides lying through the heat in her eyes would be impossible. “Hanna swore it wasn’t obvious.”

“You and your friends are always weirdly touchy so I probably would’ve agreed, but I saw you guys out on the swing earlier.”

“Oh.” She remembers then, not that she’d forgotten being on the swing with Emily, or what took place there, but that Mike and his friend, Seb, came to fetch her when their mother wanted Aria to lead some group Christmas carols.

“Can’t blame you. She is really hot.”

It’s funny that it strikes so hard, and so suddenly then, that yeah, Emily _is_ really hot. And it’s not like it isn’t common knowledge but now it’s worse. Or better. She’ll decide the next time she sees her. “Your new boyfriend’s not so bad, either.”

Mike’s smirk falters a bit. “How did you--”

“All the years you’ve been living in this house and you still don’t have a poker face.”

He laughs. “Mom and dad don’t know yet. That we’re dating, I mean.”

“Well. In that case, neither do I.”

“Thanks. I just don’t want them to hound him before I can decide whether or not I want him to stay.”

“Mike, you brought Seb home.”

Mike twists his face mockingly. “Aria, you kissed Emily.”

Aria throws her hands up in silent defeat and they both laugh. 

He shifts his weight, like he’s going to leave, but Aria sees something in his face start to change. “After Seb left, I didn’t really want to talk to anyone else but I didn’t want to leave either, even if everyone was singing really loudly and off-key.” He laughs under his breath and Aria smiles fondly at that. “But when you disappeared, Emily came over and sat with me for maybe... fifteen minutes?”

“She did?”

Mike nods. “She said hi, asked if she could keep me company and we just sat there in front of the fire. And it wasn’t weird that I didn’t want to talk. So, for what it’s worth, I thought that was cool.” His eyes drift to the floor, hand rising to scratch the back of his neck. “No one’s ever been that way with me before, you know? Other than you.”

He says goodnight before she can say anything, wanders back to his room, leaving Aria to her thoughts that rapidly increase in volume as she moves the typewriter to her desk and thinks about Emily.

Emily who is loved by Aria’s mother, Emily who kissed her under the mistletoe, Emily who helped her out of a potentially harmful situation, Emily who kept her brother, of all people, company, Emily who looks up the meaning behind Aria’s name when she’s having trouble studying, Emily who believes so much in the stories Aria needs to tell that she thought to get Aria her very own typewriter.

Emily who has promises to keep and miles to go before she sleeps.

That’s what Aria thinks when she hears the tap on her window, and the few that immediately follow it until she goes to her window to see it’s Emily, beaming up at her from the ground below.

 

 

Aria tip-toes as fast as she can down the stairs and to the front door, opens the front door in Christmas pajama bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt, already beaming back at a bright-eyed Emily, all Summer smiles and flecks of snowflakes in her ponytail.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Emily’s eyes blink slowly at her, deliberately, brightly.

Aria decides right then that the Emily Is Hot thing is infinitely worse now. “Hi.”

And it’s worth the broad smile, the dimple, the flash of light in Emily’s eyes. The way she leans down to brush her lips against Aria’s, deepening it only when Aria grabs her by her coat and pulls her into the house, closing the door behind them and trying not to wake anyone with their hushed giggling as they move up the stairs and into Aria’s bedroom.

 

 

Just as fast as the bedroom door quietly clicks shut is as fast as Aria gets on her toes, arms wrapped behind Emily’s neck, dragging a sound out of Emily when Aria licks into her mouth. The sound actually startles Emily and that makes them both laugh, so they try and fail to shush each other, resolving to more making out.

They stop when the back of Aria’s thighs hit her mattress. Aria leans against it, watches Emily slowly undo the buttons on her coat and shrug out of it, listens to her breathing as she undresses completely, hears her chuckle when Aria blinks away the darkness and spends a second taking in Emily’s naked, moon-lit silhouette. 

“I like you, too.”

Emily says it many times in the span of a few hours, sometimes against Aria’s throat, against her mouth, against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. And when Emily goes down on her, Aria bites on her own lip just to keep the music in, realizing quickly the immeasurable satisfaction in Emily being the opposite of what she’s known up until now.

 

 

Aria thinks that if epiphanies had a sound, they’d be the pulsating synth of Emily’s heart beating under Aria’s palm, the shine of Rhodes piano hammers demanding to be heard inside a whispered plea for _more more more_ , the sharp click of a typewriter’s keys as it spells out Emily’s name and punctuates it only with a fervent melody. 

She hears it then, amid twinkling lights and the soft, back-lit curve of Emily’s smile as she leans into a kiss. It’s the song of her heart falling short of this moment.

 

 

Aria sees Winter in layers of blue.

Christmas morning ricochets off a fresh snowfall and onto Aria’s windowsill, waking her, inviting her. Emily stirs beside her, still mostly naked when she stretches under Aria’s blankets. Aria shifts onto her side so she can see Emily’s face, her fingers curl into palms, into fists that lay neatly over Emily’s beating heart, and Aria waits for the blue of Emily’s nail polish to brush the length of her arm, to make her shiver like a dream she had and can still touch.

Emily’s eyes flutter open and she groans sleepily, but she smiles and Aria does, too.

There’s a knock on the door and suddenly they’re both very awake and scrambling for their lives. Ella’s voice calls happily from the other side, “Merry Christmas, girls.”

A horrifying beat. “Merry Christmas, mom.” They look at each other and struggle not to laugh, but Emily-- “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Montgomery.”

Aria’s jaw drops and she practically rolls on top of Emily, reaching for every pillow that she can smack her with.

“Breakfast is in ten. Most of our visitors cleared out this morning so there will be room for all of us at the table. See you both downstairs, hopefully fully clothed.”

Aria opens her mouth in a silent scream and Emily’s cheeks look warmer than sunshine as she laughs into Aria’s neck.

When Emily catches her breath, she says, “Well she did invite me to stay yesterday.”

Aria shakes her head, smiles down at Emily, kisses her once, slow and honest, says “I’m glad you did,” then rolls over and out of bed, racing against the cold to get dressed. Emily’s faster though, naturally, and they both make it to the door just in time to swing it open and see Mike coming out of his room.

Mike rubs at his eyes, sees them standing in Aria’s doorway and smirks sleepily before walking into the bathroom.

“So did everyone know before you?” Emily asks as they take their time getting down the stairs. Aria stops a step above Emily, amused by this angle as she looks down at her. “No,” she says coyly, taking the hand Emily extends for her. “I was just the last one to admit it to myself.”

Emily smiles at that, through the entirety of breakfast, through the next few nights they spend together. They smile when they’re back at school, having lunch together every weekend and sometimes inbetween, eyes crinkling over the rims of mugs and leaning over diner tables for the kisses they couldn’t ask for a year ago, just because they want to, just because they can.

 

 

Aria sees Summer in layers of blue.

She sits down at her desk, runs her fingers over the keys of her typewriter much like she did when she first got it. The _sing on, songbird_ stares back at her as she starts to write, Emily fast asleep in Aria’s bed like anchors and still waters, and Aria smiles, smiles bigger than she ever has because that’s exactly what she’s doing. 

With Emily.

With Emily, she has visions of worlds, not completely void of, but not bound by self-limitation, darkness or sorrow. With Emily, all things are possible because this path they’re building is untouched by the blue haze of Aria’s mind, and is instead, illuminated by hope.

**Author's Note:**

> For a mentor, a best friend and a guaranteed place at my future dinner table. Merry Christmas, Amaya.


End file.
